


Chaotic Dumbass Energy

by OlkarianPrincess



Series: Requests & Prompts [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Crack, F/M, Humor, Misunderstandings, Tumblr Prompt, chaotic dumbass energy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-09-25 19:40:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20377024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlkarianPrincess/pseuds/OlkarianPrincess
Summary: Based on @grbgcn2 's prompt on Tumblr:“I thought I liked you, but I guess I was wrong.”“What? You liked me?”“Not anymore.” (I love you.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grbgcn2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grbgcn2/gifts).

> This was probably supposed to be an angsty prompt but uh I'm a pure angelic being and can do no sin. Or so I claim. Anyway, I'm a chaotic dumbass and Pidge supposedly has the same MB personality type as me so therefore she is too.

If you were to ask a citizen of the known universe what they knew of Voltron’s Green Paladin, Pidge, they’d likely tell you a few things. First, they’d say that Pidge is one of the smartest beings in all of space. On this point, they are correct. They’d continue to inform you that if you were to ever, goddess help you, face a paladin in battle, you better pray to your gods or lack therefore that you don’t have to face Pidge.  _ He,  _ while of a smaller form than many, is very, very terrifying. They’d be mostly correct on this point as well.

What they’d be incorrect about is the fact that Pidge is a boy. In truth, Pidge is a human female from Earth, but she doesn’t bother to correct anyone on their assumption. In fact, she never even thinks of it.

Besides these two points, the average citizen couldn’t tell you much more about this specific paladin. For most, she is an enigma. They definitely couldn’t tell you that despite being blessed with high intelligence and a curious mind, she also exudes what twenty-first century humans call “big chaotic dumbass energy.” 

It is an unfortunate truth of the universe that often the smartest of people are also the dumbest. A paradox, one might think, and yet it is written in the laws of reality. You see, when someone approaches a certain limit of intelligence, it starts to affect the way they think. In essence, their mind is no longer wired the same way as the average humanoid at your local goo bar. Because they think differently, they see the world differently, and they often fail to view the same picture that everyone else does. Put simply, it’s as though the entirety of space were viewing the same sunset. A ball comes flying forth from the beauty, seemingly out of nowhere, and the non-chaotic-dumbasses of the universe immediately try to  _ avoid _ said ball. But people like Pidge ask why the ball suddenly appeared, wonder why it’s the particular color that it is, attempt to calculate its trajectory, and so on. By the time they’re done with all that, the ball hits them in the face.

And so, knowing this, it is easier to understand how exactly Pidge, as the humans would say, “royally fucked up” on a particular occasion late in Earth’s day cycle.

It was dark outside, but certainly not stormy. If it had been stormy, there would’ve been much more pressing matters to be concerned with, such as “why is there rain in space?”, “how did clouds even manage to form?”, and “does the castle-ship have windshield wipers?” It’s also important to note that since this story takes place on a ship hurtling through space, it was always dark. But this is more of a symbolic statement, as “dark” refers to the fact that it was the time when normal humans, Alteans, and other bipedal beings with supposedly high IQs sleep. At least, the non-chaotic-dumbass ones.

Pidge, as you might’ve guessed, was awake. Not wide-awake, mind you (in fact, it was more of a zombified consciousness, driven by a single, technologically-based goal). It’s very important to emphasize that she was absolutely not wide awake. However, the dumbass next to her, Shiro, was. He was attempting to focus on a novel in his hands, but was far too distracted with quick glances at his companion beside him. Pidge had insisted some hours prior that he go to bed, as she did every night when he came to keep her company, and he ignored her as he always did. So they sat there in silence, a thin blanket draped around their shoulders as Pidge’s eyes remained glued to the laptop on the floor in front of her and Shiro’s eyes remained unable to focus on the  _ absolutely thrilling _ romance of Prince De’Laak and She’ron that spilled out on the pages before him.

“Why do you stay with me?”

Shiro’s head snapped to his left, eyes focused on Pidge. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if she actually said anything. Her gaze remained on her laptop and her body was still like a statue, with the exception of her typing fingers.

Shiro meant to reply eloquently. He wanted to ask what she was worried about and assure her that she need not be insecure over anything at all. Or, perhaps, given the chance, finally confess his affection for the woman. Instead, he muttered out a single word, like a fool.

“Huh?”

“Ya know.”

He didn’t. He really had no idea what she was getting at.

“Why do you sit here with me? Isn’t it...”

She trailed off, not finishing her sentence. Her expression hadn’t actually changed at all as she’d talked, and nothing indicated that she’d finish her statement. So Shiro studied her statue-like face for a moment, taking note of the circles under her eyes and the hair that was sticking up in every direction. 

_ Cute, _ he thought. But instead he said, “You didn’t finish.”

“Finish what?”

Pidge finally turned to meet his eyes, but it was only for a brief moment. Immediately, she refocused on her work, and Shiro let out a sigh.

“You were saying something...” he prompted.

“Hmm? What was it?”

They returned to silence. With another sigh (not really of frustration but instead of amazement--Pidge’s thought process was truly an enigma), Shiro turned back to her book. The room filled with the sound of the soft hum of machinery and the click-clack of thin fingers on a keyboard. And then the fingers stopped moving.

“Isn’t it boring to sit with me?”

Pidge went back to work, taping her screen and squinting at it. Something was wrong with her code, as her scrunched up face indicated.

“No. I like you?”

There was silence, and Shiro suddenly felt very, very hot. Of course he had intended to add on “as a friend” (even though it was definitely not the way he meant it), but he was a victim of fatigue as well and hadn’t actually mustered the energy for that bit. So he just sat there, heart pounding in his chest, wondering if Pidge was going to take it the wrong way. Apparently, she didn’t. Or...maybe she did. Shiro couldn’t really tell, for what happened completely derailed his train of thought. Rather, it’s more realistic to say that it picked up the train and then slammed it down on the tracks, smashing it over and over until there was nothing left than little train bits.

“I like you too.”

The train impacted the ground for the first time.

“Well, I used to.”

Once more it hit the tracks.

Pidge’s laptop shut close with a tight click.

“Well, I’m going to bed.”

She got up quickly, and Shiro was left in a poorly lit room with his metaphorical train crushed, lit on fire, and then soaked in acid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll upload the last part later today. Yeet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh so apparently this will be 3 parts instead bc, as previously explained, we've got big dumbass energy floatin around in my head. Anywho...

Perhaps you’d believe that someone drowsy enough to confess their assumed disdain for another person would then easily slip into slumber the moment their head hit the pillow. For the most part, your assumptions would be correct. On this particular night, however, when Pidge collapsed onto her bed, she was anything but tired. Despite the fatigue that plagued her body, her mind was racing the moment it was instructed to fall asleep, as human minds so often tend to be. They’re a burden really, the brains of people. Especially for people as smart as Pidge.

Now, maybe, knowing that the green paladin was cursed with a barrage of thoughts, you’d feel confident enough to make a new assumption: that she was in fact berating herself for the truly stupid way she had explained (or, really, not at all explained) her love for Shiro. Again, your assumption would be wrong. Remember the ball? Anyone else in the castle, had then been in Pidge’s situation, would have focused on how the ball was going to hit their face. Pidge, was still stuck on contemplating where the ball could’ve come from. That is, instead of realizing that she made it sound like she didn’t even consider Shiro a friend, Pidge was worried about how he’d react to finding out she loved him. That’s right. She, in her infinite wisdom, and certainly infinite dumbassery, assumed (quite falsely, in case you hadn’t picked that up) that Shiro had connected “I don’t like you” with “I love you”--despite Pidge having never uttered the most important of those two statements.

And so the night passed by; Shiro dealing with a train that was beyond demolished, and Pidge unable to realize that a ball was about to hit her right in the face. Hard.

The scene the following morning was like those all-too-familiar family dinners, where you try to be polite and invite your new art major friend over. Except your dad complains how useless art degrees are the whole time. That is to say, a bit of a “yikes” situation. Only in this case, Coran was the dad and Pidge’s platonic love for her fellow team members was the art degree. Oh, and Shiro was the art major.

When Pidge got up, the kitchen was already bustling with life. According to the smell that wafted through the halls, breakfast was nearly done, and it was guaranteed to be delicious. The growl of her stomach betrayed her desire to stay in her room like a hermit for a decade or so, until she could muster the strength to face Shiro. Unfortunately for her, when a human refrains from basic proper self-maintenance (i.e., good sleep, eating properly, etc.), something is bound to give out. So Pidge made her way to the kitchen, eyes determined to keep their gaze on the cold, metal floor.

Everyone else had converged in the dining area already and Pidge was amongst the last to take a seat. Had she looked up once the entire meal, she would have noticed that Shiro was avoiding her gaze. Of course, it was the same in reverse.

As if sensing the tension in the air, Coran decided that it was his law-bound duty to raise the spirits in the room. This was not his duty. And even if it was, he sure as hell picked the wrong time to act on it.

“Why the long faces? Did everyone read the article in the New Aurorian? It appears you all have set a good model of what friendship is supposed to look like!”

He didn’t notice Shiro’s sigh.

“Apparently, it’s a big thing. Inspiration of hope and all, you know. Your fans just love how well you get along together. It’s very, uhm, inspiring.”

“You said inspiring twice,” Hunk offered.

“No, I said ‘inspiration,’ and then I said ‘inspiring.’ Two different words.”

He was correct, of course, but it didn’t really matter. It was still clear he was reaching pretty far. So far, in fact, that Hunk wanted to comment how good Coran’s stretching routine had to be.

(It was actually very, very good. Coran was a popular gymnast in his younger days. Everyone has hobbies.)

“Anyway, there was a wonderful picture of Pidge and Shiro smiling next to each other! I want to frame that one!”

“Don’t bother,” Shiro muttered.

It came out worse than he’d intended. Which is why he should’ve thought before he spoke. But if anyone on the ship was capable of doing that, well, they might actually be able to have functioning relationships like proper adults. A rare occurrence, even amongst non-space-soldiers-slash-saviors-of-the-galaxy, but a good thing to aim for regardless.

He and Pidge looked up at the same time, as if fate was toying with them (although really, it was just their lack of foresight meddling with things), and Shiro could see the hurt written across Pidge’s face. Pushing his chair back with a loud  _ scrape _ , Shiro muttered an “excuse me” and rushed over to deposit his plates in the sink. (Of course he’d at least put his dishes away first. He was trying to escape, not act like a barbarian.) The rest of the team watched him in silence as he left the room, staring after him for a moment.

“I’ll-” Allura spoke up.

“No,” Pidge said a little too loudly.

She lowered her voice, “I’ll...I’ll get him.”

It would be wonderful to be able to tell you that she caught up to Shiro, despite the short length of her legs compared to his, grabbed his hand, and asked him to stop. That she explained everything and said she wasn’t sorry she confessed but she understands that he doesn’t like her that way. And then he’d act surprised and question what she meant, and the truth would come out. Wouldn’t that be nice? It really would. But that’s not what happened.

Instead, Pidge found Shiro in the wing with his lion. He turned to look at her, his face all twisted by pain and confusion, and she took a moment to think--a generally recommended behavior.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry that my feelings cause you pain and make it hard to be on a team together. I don’t expect you to feel the same way back. To love me back. And that’s okay. I just don’t want things to change between us,” is what she should’ve said.

Unfortunately, there’s an undiscovered law of the universe that explains what she did say. This law will one day be named after a scientist that thinks he or she or they are “hot shit,” but are really just overworked, underpaid, and severely addicted to caffeine. This law states that when two good friends that have feelings for each other are stuck alone in a somewhat convoluted romantic mix up, their IQ is averaged and then reduced 50%. Luckily for Shiro & Pidge, even averaged, their IQ was rather high. The 50% reduction still pretty much threw everything out the window.

So what Pidge  _ did _ say was, “I’m sorry. Please don’t make a big deal about this.”

And that was very, very much, definitely not the right thing to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sittin here being told that dumbassery isn't a word and i'm like look, who invented language? that's right. not you, you stupid computer. humans did. if i say it's a word, then it's a word.


	3. Chapter 3

In action films made in Earth’s Hollywood, there’s always a brief pause before a major explosion or attack happens. First there’s the tick, tick, tick of the disaster approaching...and then there’s a pause. A silence. It’s meant to psych up the audience--to force them to hold their breath--and emphasize the chaos that’s to follow.

In a similar way, there was a pause between Shiro and Pidge.

A silence.

And then, the explosion.

“Not make a big deal? Are you kidding me!”

Shiro threw his hands into the air. To the universe, he was a rather calm man, but in reality he could be lit like a short fuse. Rarely, if ever, was Pidge the one to light that fuse, but there are always exceptions. So, when one of the smartest beings of her time decided to not use her IQ to monitor her words, she was able to witness first-hand what it was like for Shiro to get mad at you. It wasn’t just an occurrence. It wasn’t a spectacle. It was an _ experience. _

“We. Were. Friends!”

Shiro was no longer looking at Pidge. Like an elephant with a robotic arm, he was stomping around shouting at the walls. It would’ve been funny, if not for the fact that he was, well, yelling. (Although, interestingly enough, in Sector 89ZT there’s a planet whose only form of comedy is watching enraged qua-lifs roar at things. While qua-lifs are neither intelligent nor similar in any way to mammals, their display--which is in fact their mating ritual--is visible similar to that of an angry, shouting human).

“How could you say this?”

He was now facing away from her, unable to see the tears in her eyes.

“I thought we were friends...”

“Shiro,” she tried.

She knew (rather, thought she knew) that he was hurt at her disrupting their friendship with her confession. She was, of course, wrong, but was finally headed down the right path. About to apologize. About to say she never wanted to make him uncomfortable or upset or really imply that they couldn’t be friends. But you can’t forget that their combined IQ was still at a 50% reduction.

“Please just leave,” he spoke in a whisper.

She left without a word, and the chance to clear all their misunderstandings left with her.

None of the other members of the Voltron team knew what was going on. It didn’t really involve them--which was all the more excuse for them to try their absolute best to get into Pidge & Shiro’s business. There was nothing that could unite the team like a good eavesdropping mission. This is why, with perfect unity, they were able to slip out of the room after Pidge undetected. Lance went ahead first, and Keith headed into the vents. Using the mic in his suit, Keith was able to broadcast his friends’ conversation to the rest of the team, while Lance kept lookout at the door’s entrance, the rest of the group hiding further down the hall.

Honestly, if all their missions against the Galra came down to snooping in people’s private business, they would’ve been the best spy team in the entire universe. In some hypothetical universe, maybe this is exactly what happened. Maybe the Galra in that fictional universe were known to love gossip, to the point that the right scandal whispered into the right ears could undermine someone’s entire career. Not to say that this universe is real, but if it were, then the team would be the head of the universe’s juiciest gossip mag. (It’s called “Tell: Kiss Optional”)

When Pidge slunk out of the room, the team scattered. Even if she had been able to focus on something besides the floor, and had access to her usually sharp senses, she wouldn’t have spotted them. Still, Allura slipped out from hiding to approach the heart-broken paladin. She loved gossip, but that didn’t mean she was heartless.

“Pidge?” she prompted.

“I’m going to do some recon.”

It was a simple reply, and it was all Pidge had to say. There was something in her tone that kept Allura from prompting further.

The paladins were all (mostly) humans, and humans love stories. In fact, those on the team native to Earth had been forced to read a great many short stories during their time in the public education system. If you asked any one of them to recall the things they’d been told to read, they would shudder and warn you to stop asking. The thing is, for some reason humans consider “good” short literature to be 1) unsettling, 2) depressing, 3) end horribly, or all of the above.

If this event had been fictional, and was crafted entirely in the mind of a human, it would certainly involve one of these qualities. Pidge would leave in her lion to a nearby moon and walk out sullenly onto a mountain. Things would go terribly wrong and a strange creature would emerge from the woulds. If Stephen King was the one in charge of writing this story, maybe it would be, well, It, that came. Another human writer would be more confusing about just exactly what this threat was, and would reach to force the reader to conclude that it was something as boring as “the self-doubt of sentient beings” or blah blah blah. Life is hard. Things suck. Etc. etc. etc. 

Humans do love writing about these things.

It’s fortunate that this story is neither fictional nor contrived by a human, since it does have a happy ending. Despite Pidge’s lack of competence with verbal communication, she was still generally the smartest person in the room. So Pidge did leave on her lion, go out onto a mountain, stare into the stars, and then she, metaphorically, went “ow.”

She finally realized that the ball had hit her in the face.

“I never said I loved him.”

Pidge collapsed on the ground in a fit of laughter.

After several minutes of losing control of the basic function of breathing, Pidge collected herself and headed back to the ship. She snuck through the halls silently, a plan already in mind (and totally unaware of her friends watching her on the ship’s security system) and got where she needed to go. All she really had to do was wait.

Pidge wasn’t the most patient person, so she ended up falling asleep while waiting.

“Um...”

A low voice woke her.

Pidge cracked her eyes open, ready to yell at Matt for waking her, when she saw Shiro’s face and her memory came flooding back to her. Gorgeous. That’s what she thought. He was gorgeous. Even after crying, and oh how she regretted making him cry--she would apologize eventually, and he would apologize for yelling--he was so gorgeous. The thought caused a smile to spread across her lips.

“Hey.”

She followed her greeting by sitting up on his bed. Shiro was still clearly upset, his face all scrunched up but in a kinda cute way, but he had clearly softened. Pidge also suspected he was trying to keep from laughing at the way her hair was inevitably sticking out all over the place, as if trying to escape her head.

“So,” she started as she stretched, “I’m kinda a dumbass.”

“You’re not,” he whispered, sitting down on the bed beside her.

Why she was in his room, he couldn’t fathom, but she was short and he was tall and it was kind of weird staring down at her cute sleep, filled face as if he were a giant. So he sat.

“No, no. It’s not that I’m dumb. I’m a dumbass. It’s a state of mind.”

She seemed fairly confident in her statement, so he didn’t protest.

“You see,” she reached over to hold his hand.

He thought maybe her face looked somewhat flushed. Of course, it was flushed. She was bright red with the realization that she was about to really, truly confess to him, but he was also a dumbass. Not dumb. Just a state of mind. A way of being.

(Another unnamed law is that dumbasses do attract.)

“I didn’t make myself clear before.”

She inhaled deeply and for some reason (that reason being that he absolutely immensely loved her and would give anything for her happiness, even never see her again if she so requested) Shiro’s heart skipped a beat.

“I don’t like you, Shiro.”

Her eyes met his.

His metaphorical brain train exploded again. A brain railroad engineer (also sometimes called a psychologist, but that’s less fun) would’ve told him that her lack of verbal skills was not the greatest for his mental train’s well-being.

“I love you, Shiro.”

It was her heart’s turn to stop. She waited for a response.

“Okay wow you are a dumbass.”

Humans like to say something about payback being a bitch? After all Pidge put Shiro through, it was definitely his turn to derail her thoughts. 

“You should’ve said that in the first place,” he continued. “Because I love you too.”

“Oh.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a while, both too overwhelmed to make a move. This is the part of the story that, if it were in a romance novel, the two would have an explosive kiss. They’d see fireworks and feel true happiness. In a single word, it would be magical. But you should know the drill by now. This isn’t a romance novel and that’s not what happened. As the two of them gazed into each other’s eyes, they’re silly, silly brains forgot some very, very important things.

First: They were not the only ones on the castle-ship.

Second: Their friends were  _ extremely _ nosey.

Third: There’s no chance in hell they’d ever be able to keep their relationship secret.

It didn’t matter, though, because these lessons were quickly refreshed. Shiro’s door burst off its hinges into the room with a “bang” and a group of paladins, Alteans, and mice fell in.

“Just kiss!” Hunk wailed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty for reading <3 hope you liked it!


End file.
